Swallowing Stones Continued Ending
by Scratchit
Summary: This is the continued ending to the book Swallowing Stones by Joyce McDonald that I had to write for English. If you haven't read the book, THIS WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS!


**Swallowing Stones (continued ending)**

Michael suddenly grows rigid with nervousness as he watches Jenna stir. He balls his fingers into a fist, and squeezes until his knuckles turn white as he watches her eyes flutter open. She sits there for a moment, trying to blink away the last remnants of sleep from her vision before turning to him. She squints at him, as if she's trying to confirm that he's really there. Her eyes suddenly get a panicked look about them. She flattens herself against the tree as if she's desperate to get away, but is too terror-stricken to do so. He slowly gets up from the rock he'd perched himself upon during the night, and raises his hands into the air; trying to calm her down. 

"It's okay," he rasps, his voice unexpectedly hoarse. He clears his throat quietly and continues, "I won't hurt you. I'm just here to talk."

** J**enna nods hesitantly, her eyes never leaving his face as she sits down on another rock near the tree trunk. Her memories of the past day's discoveries come flooding back to her as she gets comfortable. She knows that he won't hurt her, but she can't help being afraid of him. The voice in the back of her head chanting, '_He's come to finish the job'_ grows louder as she spots the butt of the Winchester lying behind the rock. She pushes the thought to the back of her head, and listens carefully as Michael begins to explain himself to her.

She studies his face intently, making him look to the ground before running his fingers through his hair. She watches him twiddling his thumbs and tapping his feet with nervousness. She can't even begin to fathom what courage it must take to admit to killing a person—even if it was an accident. He breathes deeply before lifting his head to briefly look her in the eyes. He stands stiffly and walks behind the boulder to retrieve the Winchester. He grasps it within his hands carefully and looks at it for a moment, seemingly contemplating if explaining himself to her is the right thing to do. He nods firmly, confirming that he is going through with his plan. He sits back down on the rock—Winchester in tow.

He pauses briefly to collect his thoughts and begins, "On my seventeenth birthday, I had a party at my house. I'd just gotten this rifle," he pauses to lift up the Winchester, "from my grandpa, and was showing it off to my friends. It was the Fourth of July and everyone was celebrating with noisemakers." He breathes deeply and finishes with an unsteady voice, "I grabbed my rifle from the rack, and fired it into the air."

Jenna's eyes glaze over. She remembers walking out to the front yard, raising her hand to block the sun, and watching her father stapling the roof shingles to the house. She watches as he begins to wave, but stops halfway, his eyes wide and his mouth half open. She closes her eyes to blink, and when she opens them, her father is lying dead at her feet. She remembers the blank look in his eyes as they stare ahead. She screams when she sees the blood, causing her mother to come running out of the house with a plate balanced on her hand. She covers her mouth with her hand, and listens to the plate breaking when it hits the ground. Her mother rushes past her as she stumbles backward, collapsing on the swing placed on the porch. She watches helplessly, tears freely flowing from her eyes, as her mother kneels at her father's side. Her mother shakes him vigorously while screaming his name in between desperate pleas for him to wake up. Her vivid reverie is cut short by Michael's soft voice.

** "I**…I'm sorry," he begins shakily. He eventually looks up into her frightened eyes, and holds her under his gaze for a long while. With newfound courage, he continues firmly, "I can't possibly express to you how sorry I truly am. I didn't mean to kill him, but it happened…and I'm sorry."

He adverts his gaze to one of the nearby trees. "You know, my best bud's probably on his way to jail right now because of me…because I was a coward when the cops came to my house. I made up a story that made it look like Joe had done it, and they bought it." He faces her again and stands up. "I wanted to tell you what I've done before I go to the cops to clear Joe's name. They'll probably throw me in a cell the moment they see the Winchester. I figured telling you first was the least I could do."

She opens and closes her mouth dumbly before nodding. He turns around to leave while resting the rifle against his shoulder.

"Wait," she suddenly blurts out. He stops and turns to face her. "Thank you," she says quietly.

He nods and resumes his trek back to the information center where he parked the car. He is going to free Joe now—going to set things straight. He listens as Jenna begins walking back to her home in the opposite direction, and smiles. He knows he has done the right thing by telling her.

** J**enna looks down at the front page of the newspaper. It is Michael's face that appears under the headlines today. She feels a twinge of sadness as she stares down at him. She's glad he confessed to her, but almost wishes that he would've let his friend Joe take the blame. She sighs, and slowly sets the newspaper on the table. The kettle on the stove whistles, signaling that her tea is ready. As she goes to retrieve the silver pot, a small smile graces her features. She no longer feels the burden of loss that she used to, and for the first time since her father's death, she feels content.


End file.
